Gift
by Hontor
Summary: David remembered the frescoes on the planet where "Prometheus" found its final resting place. The creature pictured there – was it a real thing or just a chimera, an ancient idol? A gorgeous, refined creature... Could it be possible to reconstruct one here, in the half-wild?


David was watching the monitors out of the corner of his eye. Not a single motion for months – only the wind scurried fallen leaves and rags around the square. Cameras had been on the blink more and more often or just acted up. He assumed they would soon have to be abandoned.

Suddenly there was a glimpse in the corner of the screen. David turned short and shifted his glance at the monitor. There could be no mistake.

Not an animal, not a hybrid created by the epidemic. There were still some in the forests – and theoretically they could visit the city, too. But, no matter how unbelievable and impossible it was, this one was a survivor. Perhaps the last one. Wrapping himself up in a cloak of grey sackcloth – the weather was dank outside with its chilly wind and a slashing drizzle.

A young one. If he were a human, David would assume him to be about 16-17 years old. According to the data on Engineers he had managed to study this estimate was right for their race, too. Engineers were able to prolongate their lifespan for decades and even for hundreds of years but only when they had fully grown up.

So, a boy... Where could he come from, a whole year after the ejection of the pathogen? Where had he been all this time? He was disoriented, with an expression of shock and horror on his face. If he had witnessed this for a year he would have already got used to it...

He seemed to be aware of how the pathogen worked: kept away from dead bodies, avoided touching them, watched where to walk in order not to step on a spore spawn. He was moving quickly but still carefully. Right to the temple – quite a fortunate coincidence... Does he hope to find any other survivors? Or at least a safe shelter?

David hadn't seen a living being for so long. Life on the planet had been almost extinct. Even those creatures that were born from the infected appeared less and less. The first generation. The day-flies living for only a couple of months. Weird, unfinished, like sketches before something greater to be created. Both ugly and beautiful, just like any draft copy.

The substance that changed them was both frightening and amazing: so sculpturesque, so tameless – the primordial ocean, the boiling cauldron of potentials. Life could be moulded out of it as if it were clay. A mass destruction weapon. An instrument for the creator.

The only thing left to understand was how to turn one into the other. David remembered the frescoes on the planet where "Prometheus" found its final resting place. The creature pictured there – was it a real thing or just a chimera, an ancient idol? A gorgeous, refined creature... Could it be possible to reconstruct one here, in the half-wild?

Any truly advanced technology must have an intuitive interface. That's a common rule of any progress: the more difficult something is to create the easier it must be to use it. David never even dared to think of synthesizing the substance but studying the data from the ship was enough to guide its effect.

Not only that he started his work – he had made quite a progress. Shaw appeared to be the key – a unique method of infection, a unique carrier giving birth not to day-flies aimed only to kill but an interjacent form for a more exquisite living being. A biolaboratory as it is.

Elizabeth Shaw... An eternity seemed to have passed since then. She was alive. Full of hope. Carefree.

She didn't know that she was doomed. Medical scanners on the ship were different from human technology devices but David managed to figure out how they worked. He understood enough to see: there was a new fetus growing in her body. Just slower than the previous one. She may have a week or so...

David smiled and ensured her everything was all right. Shaw locked herself in an illusion of safety – she wanted to believe in it too much to notice the shadow of anxiety on his face. She always preferred to leave the things too uncomfortable unnoticed...

He didn't like to lie but the truth was inapt at that time.

Shaw lay into the cryogenic capsule being sure that she'll wake up on the planet of creators.

David knew she would never wake up. He had already made up his mind.

He could extract the creature from her body. However it would all repeat in a few weeks. And then again. Even such a young and strong organism would have been exhausted by so many operations, while the mind – by the forefeeling of death coming soon.

It would be as unbearable as lying mutilated and paralyzed on a dead planet... David wouldn't wish such a fate even to those he hated.

He assumed he could someday create an antidote. He could – if he hurled all effort into it. The truth was: he didn't want to. Not for the sake of a human who saw him as a mere robot, a funny machine, a toy to brighten up her loneliness on an unfamiliar spaceship. Shaw said such things easily, never holding any grudge. Not ever thinking of it. Never a friend, as usual. Just a new owner...

David could not hate her. Did he love her? The truth was that he, an android, "a machine", actually could feel love, even though it was an egoistic type of love, not selfless at all. And still Shaw, a human of flesh and blood, could never answer him even with the same feelings.

Still, a possession could be loved, too... in a specific way.

Shaw died without regaining consciousness. Several months of induced coma – David gave her life support for just as long as he needed to do his work.

Hardly could he give her anything more than a death during her sleep. The effect of the pathogen had already gone too far. Her reproductive system had been fully reborn, with every follicle containing newly changed data. Each of them would eventually turn into a new creature, in no way could it be of human nature.

The one lying on the laboratory table was not Elizabeth Shaw any more. At least – biologically. A genetic chimera – that's what she was; in her blood, tissue, even hair and skin samples changes had been dramatically fast. Strangely, almost none of them were visible...

At the moment David finished his research and injected her with a lethal dose of tranquilizer Shaw remained less than one third human.

So he had half a year of scrupulous work and hundreds of failed experiments. As a result there was one egg of a viable facehugger. And several original specimen frozen in a cryocapsule.

At that point the research reached a deadlock – there were no survivors in the city. The biosphere was still agonizing but the most vulnerable were the first to fall. Those who lost the skill to hide and run away long ago. Those who preferred the dubious advantages of civilization...

Even an android's memory is not flawless. Nothing is erased and lost but still older images are slowly replaced by new ones and different perception. It was getting more and more difficult to remember those days spent on the ship – so distant, they seemed almost happy... And now it was all poisoned by what happened afterwards. Harder and harder to keep in mind that the dissected corpse used to be a living human being. That this human being did evoke any feelings other than pragmatic scholarly interest.

It was then that those images started to come out – the dark and grievous ones. Venting them on paper David felt relieved for a short time. However, he didn't like to return to them, to look through them afterwards. He burnt them or brought away to the storage where they lay rolled together. A dead weight. In his room there was no place for any of those drawings. In his room, where he kept his flutes, his collection of animals and plants, his graphics depicting the planet's fauna. A vintage printed photograph of Shaw giving a smile. All in the warm, lively light of crystalline lamps. His world, his home, his own reflection.

Those drawings were different. They were an attempt to reconcile the irreconcilable. An inanimate thing, a preparation on the table, an object – and that life, not always good, but still dear to him... and now escaping.

The first prevailed more and more over the second.

It took David almost a week to carve a gravestone. A simple one, nothing excessively exquisite. Just a stone with her name on it.

Even though there was no actual funeral and only memories rested in piece in this grave – still that poison, that obnoxious mixture finally disintegrated into components.

There, in the laboratory, was a wet specimen evoking no more emotions than a dried insect would. And here, in the garden, under open sky was the memory of a living human being.

It was a relief. Now – a real relief.

* * *

This all seemed to be a whole eternity ago. David had given up the hope to continue his work. He almost made up his mind with the idea that these perfect, exquisite predators, either gods or demons of the creators' race would remain a dream forever. An unreachable ideal.

And now, a year after the catastrophe, he was granted this unbelievable chance. David could assume that he'd be even less surprised if he saw a ghost.

A gift, indeed.

\- How did you manage to survive? – thoughtful and concentrated he was watching the screen.

The boy not only found the entrance easily (this wasn't a difficult task anyway) but also opened the door quite as confidently. This could not be a coincidence – in order to do this one needed to know how the lock worked. So, it meant that he had been here before. And knew where to go.

Inside the building he wandered long in the corridors. Was he calling someone? Seemed so, though the cameras didn't translate sound and, moreover, weren't placed everywhere. From time to time David lost track of the visitor but it didn't bother him much. There was only one entrance and one exit. Also there was no way to reach the laboratory unnoticed. It didn't mean he would let himself be put off guard. And still at the moment it was enough just to watch.

The boy found the rain room. He drank for quite a while, greedily, hastily, spilling water on the floor.

Watching him through the monitor David gave a little frown at first but in a moment he already smiled. It's not that he preferred everything to be in perfect order... Life is always this way. Its horrifying symmetry, the strictness of its forms. Any smallest deviation, any imperfection can lead to a downfall. And at the same time it's chaotic and unpredictable. Against order, against logic.

Drops of water on the floor, together with dust. No past, no future – only a desperate thirst for life in the present.

Even being doomed, the guest brought life to this place.

They ran into each other in the corridor. Eye to eye – and that's why, even though there were about ten steps between them, it felt as if they were standing face to face. David remained discreetly close to the door.

The guy looked exhausted – at such a distance it was even more obvious than on the screen. It was not just fatigue and hunger. There was something else...

The Engineer was looking at the stranger suspiciously. Then an expression of understanding reflected on his face... he got it. Well, seeing the aftermath of a global catastrophe and then meeting a creature from another world there's no problem with combining these facts.

And still, first he asked.

\- Was it you?

The language sounded a bit unfamiliar – a local dialect, still David recognized the words. Would he believe a negative answer? However, he was not going to lie. Nodded slowly... and hid himself behind the door.

He did it just in time – there immediately was a subdued scream behind his back and a heavy blow that almost made a door of stone shatter into pieces. The android grinned: even though his opponent was a boy in human terms he was still one third larger than David and probably just as strong.

The outcome of an open confrontation was unpredictable. If the guy won he would still be not long in this world. A week, a month, a year? The first was the most likely. As for David, he could live for very, very long here, and still in case of any serious injury there would be no one to help. A long life would be turned into a languishing death.

Not as immortal as he seemed.

The corridors were a labyrinth and the one who could orientate himself there was at an advantage. Besides, one of them needed neither food or water nor sleep. At least, not as much as organic creatures did. He just had to wait for the opponent to get weak.

David realized his advantage indifferently, with no triumph or gloat. Without the excitement of a predator. He was even a bit chagrined. He'd never wish for changing the roles: having lost everything, being made to stay single-handed with an enemy he was completely powerless against. With the one who would silently wait till you exhaust yourself and be unable to fight anymore. Who would follow you like a dark merciless shadow avoiding confrontation. Only watching and waiting. Like a scavenger...

It a cold, uneasy silence there was an echoing voice in the corridors swearing and cursing. Among the rest there was a threat to "tear your head off".

\- You're not the first one, - David answered quietly. Grinned sadly – well, at least this time he knew what that was for.

He returned to the laboratory, took away the facehugger's egg, locked the room and masqued the passage. Even if the Engineer came across that door he would hardly decide to move the gigantic stone, spending too much time and effort on it. David could stay inside but that would mean losing his advantages. Losing control of the situation. He could take a weapon – but a weapon would be just an illusion of control. Too much risk to be caught off guard believing in the safety it could grant. Moreover, the weapon couldn't be brought into play. This guy was the last chance to continue the research. The last potential carrier. A sudden gift from a dying world.

An exhausting chase started in the dark labyrinth of the temple. A pursuit where the hunter was actually the prey. He may have even realized it... He cursed, promised revenge, but every time he got closer to the enemy he lost him in the forks of the corridors, in the dead ends where there must have been a door but only a naked wall appeared.

David was silent. He never argued or answered any questions. He understood what this desperate fury was, this last wish at least to get revenge when there was nothing that could be brought back. He didn't try to start a talk – he paid respect to this hatred. What discussion could there take place with the one who destroyed your home? Who took everything away from you?

He understood it all. Perhaps even felt sorry. And still he knew which of them would get what he needed.

Minutes seemed like hours. A day felt like an eternity. Forks in the corridors and rooms, so alike. Swearing and cursing, repeated from time to time. A never-ending circle.

David couldn't let his precious prey go. Leave the temple and meet his quick and meaningless death from the teeth of a day-fly beast or having breezed in the spores. That's why he showed himself again and again, led the opponent deeper into the temple tempting him with an illusion of a possible victory being soon. Yet he disappeared again – a ghost in a gloomy mausoleum.

At the end of the second day the boy couldn't bear the fatigue and fight against sleep anymore. He popped right off on the floor, in an uncomfortable position, and didn't even move when David came close with the egg in his hands keeping the petals closed. The creature inside rolled over a little reacting on a scent of a living being.

A good chance to put an end to it all. No fighting, no exhausting confrontation. A dream turning into a death...

David got to his senses when he was already in the corridor. As if his feet moved by themselves. So, what could that mean? He was furious and confused.

There was no logic in his actions, and neither there was any mercy. Protracting this cat-and-mouse game with a predictable and brutal end was not a merciful act at all. Then what? The fear to be left all alone again? Pity, unbidden and illogical? Too late for pity: he had spared none of the millions – why feel sorry for just one boy?

So stupid. So wrong. So humanly.

But is there any sense in this humanity if it stops from making a most humane decision?

A week later the Engineer was completely worn out. He hardly ever slept, ate nothing and only drank water returning to the rain room again and again – as greedily and desperately as before, as if that water could save him from the threats other than thirst... He no longer swore or cursed and spent most of the time leaning his back against the wall with his eyes closed. David felt slightly troubled: the guy was sinking too fast even for such circumstances. His skin was dry and seemed almost transparent; the veins under it pulsed rapidly – it was notable even on the screen. He drank much, more and more often, and still the symptoms of dehydration only aggravated. Whatever it could be, there was no time to waste.

David took the facehugger out of his egg carefully. A transitional form with soft tentacles and a hard dry body. The creature froze expectantly – there was no potential carrier around. If held in a right way it would not feel his presence even being close.

The Engineer felt the enemy coming with some sixth sense – even before seeing him. He tried to get up but too abruptly – his body answered him with an attack of weakness. He crawled back setting his elbows against the wall in his last desperate attempt to stay on his feet. A vain attempt. He didn't make any more effort to get up, only looked at the android standing in front of him and the creature he was holding in his hands. There was no

hatred or even fear in that look any more – too tired for any emotions. There was only fatigue.

He could scarcely move his dry lips.

\- What was that for?..

David was silent. He would know what to say to anyone other. He had his reasons. He acted on his grounds. He regret nothing and would do it again if he had to. But now he could not utter a word and was angry with himself for such weakness. This wasn't too much to ask – just to know the reason before dying. His last right. And the worst thing to do, the most unfair thing was to keep silent.

And still any answer got shattered into senseless words, crashed on the unpleasant truth suddenly realized: this boy had nothing to do either with the sins of humanity or even with the Engineers' sins... David had nothing to blame him for.

It was the first time David was at a loss for words. In a complete silence he raised his hand setting the facehugger free – the creature caught the wind of its prey and rushed down. The boy tried to shield himself but was too drained even for that. The tentacles clasped his head. It was a short and hopeless fight – David watched it without averting his eyes.

\- This was yours, - he said through clenched teeth, wearily, angrily.

A belated answer – not meant to be heard. David gave the answer to himself.

It could have been a relief...

It wasn't.

David was sitting beside him and waiting. The facehugger exercised its biological function and now lay on the floor shrunken and breathless. The Engineer looked almost as bad – and again David blamed himself for not finishing it all earlier. Now he was afraid that both of them would die, that the carrier would not endure it, that the unborn creature would suffocate, freeze in a dead body. Everything would be in vain...

He could only wait. Hold the boy's hand checking his weak erratic pulse. Listen to his shallow breathing and involuntarily shudder – am I not imagining things? But no, the glass became misted... An unbearably fragile life – he couldn't even bring him to the laboratory as any change of place could turn the scales fatally. Minutes were like hours. Against David's will the boy's face was becoming etched in memory. At that time, releasing the deadly poison, he didn't see the faces. And having landed, passing by the corpses – he didn't look.

And again, it was so humanly: easier to press the button than to kill honestly, standing eye to eye. A humanly weakness. Cowardice. Those millions of others were no worse and no better than this guy. It's just that he would not remember their faces...

What an irony it was to carefully catch every breath of the one he had sentenced to death himself! Hold him by the wrist and rejoice at every heartbeat – an unnatural, monstrous type of care, and still at that very moment David could not convince himself that the reason for it was only the creature inside.

So illogical.

It was about time to get used to such things...

Finally his chest faintly trembled. It was starting. The guy did not regain consciousness – well, at least this was a stroke of luck. For both of them. Still, the one inside was weak. It rolled over clumsily trying to get out, tearing the lungs apart – the Engineer's breath began to gurgle, blood appeared on his lips.

And still he didn't wake up. Good for him.

No time left to waste – David cut the clothes with a piece of shattered glass (the only instrument he always had along), then cut the skin in the solar plexus zone. From that on he cut deeper, dissecting the muscular tissue, but still carefully in order not to harm the hardly smoldering life inside. A ding dong emptiness in his head, and still his hands knew what to do moving the flesh apart and tearing the cartilages. The ribs cracked, as if forming an opening cocoon. The newborn, all in blood and mucus, raised its head and quietly squealed. Just like a hatchling that couldn't break the shell by itself... and still started to grow just after it came into the world. David gently took him out freeing him from the afterbirth. A little cub – wet, limp and trembling. Not at all that perfect creature whose image boggled imagination... but it was alive. It was real.

And still, weak. He could hardly live long.

This was pitiable... but it was enough to continue the work.

David ranged his eyes round the room – one of the many rooms of the temple. There was a stack of papers on the stone table, crumpled and sloppily thrown into a pile. Failed sketches, unnecessary notes. He never got round to recycle them into blank sheets. However, they had a new purpose now – to become a nest for the newborn.

The cub curled in the papers, raising his eyeless muzzle and watching the android carefully. Lanky and gangly, but curious. David couldn't help smiling even though he was not at all happy. The newborn started to chirr. Was that an answer or just a coincidence?

There was just one more thing left. David went a flight of stairs down, to the room where temple utensils were kept. Rolls of cloth on the shelves... similar to that the Engineers' cloaks were made of but softer and brighter, almost white. According to the pictures from books, they had been used exactly for the purpose David was going to use them himself.

From the ceiling to the floor – shelves stuffed with ritual cloth. And even this wouldn't be enough to bury all the dead...

He came back with a piece of cloth. Hesitated for a moment, then took off the cloak stained in blood and put it aside.

One more illogical action. David could not say exactly why he decided to keep that thing for himself. A painful reminder. It would make sense to wrap the body in the cloak and bring it outside the temple. And then wash away the blood from the floor and forget it...

The cloak needed altering. And shortening, at least in half. Strangely this artless, trivial thought brought some relief.

The shroud became drenched in blood the moment it came in contact with the body. Anyway, the cloth had been hopelessly stained all over before: blood on his hands, blood on the clothes, drops of blood on the boy's face beginning to dry out – David noticed the details remotely, without any emotions. He picked up the body – a weight too heavy for a human to lift but almost imponderable for an android; brought it to the square and left beside the wall. He did it the way he wouldn't see it if he had to go out of the temple.

There was no point in burying the dead bodies in this gigantic graveyard. There were too many of them.

He wanted to say a few words. To say "I'm sorry" – but he halted realizing how improper and falsely it would sound.

It didn't matter how hard it was. It didn't matter if he felt sorry. He knew he would have done it again.

Just as everything else.

In three days it became obvious that the creature was growing feeble and fading away, and its intensive growth caused it only pain. David decided not to prolongate the agony this time.

His hand wasn't shaking. He didn't stop after he had made up his mind. Just as it was with Shaw, and with that nameless boy – perhaps the last one of his race. Each time it was so easy. And still it never got any easier the next time.

At least this was what differed him from humans. He couldn't accommodate himself.

On the other hand, now he had everything he needed to finish his work. Original samples from Shaw, genetic schemes and the prototype creature. He only had to scrutinize it, get rid of the mistakes, recode the failed parts... And hope that the next generation would be the way he planned. Hope that in a decade, in a hundred years, in a million years, even if their creator broke down or lost his senses on a dead planet, these creatures would have a chance to survive and show themselves.

In this ruthless world nobody had a right to hope for anything more than a chance.

* * *

 _Things that were supposed to guard the memory once become just inanimate things._

 _The blood that used to burn painfully as a reminder was becoming nothing more than dark jaded stains on the cloth. Halfway washed away by rains and by time._

 _And even the memory itself faded, as if losing its value... never disappearing but sinking deeper and deeper._

 _It didn't hurt anymore._

* * *

Thank you very much for translating from Russian to English - Ailinn Lein


End file.
